William Young - The Shack

“Is she…?” Mack began.

“She was overjoyed to have been this close to you, and she’s thrilled knowing you are better.”

Mack struggled to maintain his composure. Jesus understood and changed the subject.

“So, how was your time with Sophia?”

“Sophia? Ahh, so that’s who she is!” exclaimed Mack. Then a perplexed look came across his face. “But doesn’t that make four of you? Is she God too?”

Jesus laughed. “No Mack. There are only three of us. Sophia is a personification of Papa’s wisdom.”

“Oh, like in Proverbs, where wisdom is pictured as a woman calling out in the streets, trying to find anyone who’ll listen to her?”

“That’s her.”

“But,” Mack paused as he bent to untie the laces of his shoes, “she seemed so real.”

“Oh, she’s quite real,” responded Jesus. He then looked around as if to see if anyone was watching and whispered, “She’s part of the mystery surrounding of Sarayu.”

“I love Sarayu,” Mack exclaimed as he stood, somewhat surprised at his own transparency.

“Me too!” Jesus stated with emphasis. They walked back to the shore and silently stood looking across at the shack.

“It was terrible and it was wonderful, my time with Sophia.” Mack finally answered the question Jesus had asked earlier. He suddenly realized that the sun was still high in the sky. “Exactly how long have I been gone?”

“It’s been less than fifteen minutes, so not long,” Jesus replied. At Mack’s look of bewilderment, he added, “Time with Sophia is not like normal time.”

“Huh,” grunted Mack. “I doubt if anything with her is normal.”

“Actually,” Jesus started to speak but paused to throw one last skipping stone, “with her, everything is normal and elegantly simple. Because you are so lost and independent you bring to her many complications, and as a result you find even her simplicity profound.”

“So, I’m complex and she’s simple. Whew! My world is upside down.” Mack had already sat down on a log and was taking off his shoes and socks for the walk back. “Can you tell me this? Here it is the middle of the day, and my children were here in their dreams? How does that work? Is any of this real? Or am I just dreaming, too?”

Again Jesus laughed. “As far as how all this works? Don’t ask, Mack. It’s a little heady-something to do with time dimensional coupling. More of Sarayu’s stuff. Time, as you know it, presents no boundaries to the One who created it. You can ask her, if you like.”

“Nah, I think I’ll wait on that one. I was just curious,” he chuckled.

“But as for, ‘Is any of this real?’ Far more real than you can imagine.” Jesus paused for a moment to get Mack’s full attention. “A better question might be, ‘What is real?’“

“I’m beginning to think that I have no idea,” Mack offered.

“Would all this be any less ‘real’ if it were inside a dream?”

“I think I’d be disappointed.”

“Why? Mack, there is far more going on here than you have the ability to perceive. Let me assure you, all of this is very much real, far more real than life as you’ve known it.”

Mack hesitated, but then decided to take the risk and ask.

“There is one thing still bothering me, about Missy.”

Jesus walked over and sat next to him on the log. Mack leaned over and put his elbows on his knees, staring past his hands and down at the pebbles near his feet. Finally, he said, “I keep thinking about her, alone in that truck, so terrified…”

Jesus reached over and put his hand on Mack’s shoulder and squeezed. Gently, he spoke, “Mack, she was never alone. I never left her; we never left her not for one instant. I could no more abandon her, or you, than I could abandon myself.”

“Did she know you were there?”

“Yes Mack, she did. Not at first-the fear was overwhelming and she was in shock. It took hours to get up here from the campsite. But as Sarayu wrapped herself around her, Missy settled down. The long ride actually gave us a chance to talk.”

Mack was trying to take all of this in. He could no longer speak.

“She may have been only six years old, but Missy and I are friends. We talk. She had no idea what was going to happen. She was actually more worried about you and the other kids, knowing that you couldn’t find her. She prayed for you, for your peace.”

Mack wept, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. This time, he didn’t mind. Jesus gently pulled him into his arms and held him.

“Mack, I don’t think you want to know all the details. I’m sure they won’t help you. But I can tell you there was not a moment that we were not with her. She knew my peace, and you would have been proud of her. She was so brave!”

The tears flowed freely now, but even Mack noticed this time it was different. He was no longer alone. Without embarrassment he wept onto the shoulder of this man he had grown to love. With each sob he felt the tension drain away, replaced by a deep sense of relief. Finally, he took a deep breath and blew it out as he lifted his head.

Then, without another word, he stood up, slung his shoes over one shoulder, and simply walked into the water. Although he was a little surprised when his first step found the lake bottom up to his ankles, he didn’t care. He stopped, rolled up his pant legs above the knees, just to be sure, and took another step into the shocking cold water. This one took him up to midcalf, and the next up to just below his knees, his feet still on the lake bottom. He looked back to see Jesus standing on the shore with arms folded across his chest, watching him.

Mack turned and looked toward the opposite shore. He wasn’t sure why it wasn’t working this time, but he was determined to press on. Jesus was there, so he had nothing to worry about. The prospect of a long and cold swim was not too thrilling, but Mack was sure he could make it across if he had to.

Thankfully, when he took his next step, instead of going deeper he rose up a little, and with each succeeding stride he came up even more until he was on top of the water once again. Jesus joined him and they both continued walking toward the shack.

“This always works better when we do it together, don’t you think?” Jesus asked, smiling.

“Still more to learn, I guess.” Mack returned his smile. It didn’t matter to him, he realized, whether he had to swim the distance or walk on water, as wonderful as the latter was. What mattered was that Jesus was with him. Perhaps he was beginning to trust him after all, even if it were only baby steps.

“Thank you for being with me, for talking to me about Missy. I haven’t really talked about that with anyone. It just felt so huge and terrifying. It doesn’t seem to hold the same power now.”

“The darkness hides the true size of fears and lies and regrets,” Jesus explained. “The truth is they are more shadow than reality, so they seem bigger in the dark. When the light shines into the places they live inside you, you start to see them for what they are.”

“But why do we keep all that crap inside?” Mack asked.

“Because we believe it’s safer there. And, sometimes, when you’re a kid trying to survive, it really is safer there. Then you grow up on the outside, but on the inside you’re still that kid in the dark cave surrounded by monsters, and out of habit you keep adding to your collection. We all collect things we value, you know?”

This made Mack smile. He knew Jesus was referring to something Sarayu had said about collecting tears. “So, how does that change, you know, for somebody who’s lost in the dark like me?”

“Most often, pretty slowly,” Jesus answered. “Remember, you can’t do it alone. Some folks try with all kinds of coping mechanisms and mental games. But the monsters are still there, just waiting for the chance to come out.”